Movie review: Strong cast propels twisty ‘Bad Times at the El Royale’

Dana Barbuto More Content Now

Tuesday

Oct 9, 2018 at 11:21 AMOct 9, 2018 at 11:21 AM

“Bad Times at the El Royale” is a good-not-great, twist-filled thriller about a group of strangers hiding dark secrets. One-by-one — a priest, a salesman, a singer and a hippie — land at the El Royale hotel on the outskirts of Reno. In its heyday, the inn was once considered to be heaven, but since falling on hard times it is pretty much hell. As it turns out, hell is exactly what writer-director Drew Goddard has in mind.

In following up his cult hit “Cabin in the Woods,” Goddard gets a huge assist from a strong ensemble that prop up a script with more holes than Swiss cheese. I’m still irritated that a few plot points the film relies on are never explained. Who was that mystery man on the film reel? Just who is the hotel management? And who was the shooter in the prologue? I have theories, but send me an email me if you know for sure.

Jeff Bridges is the priest; Jon Hamm, sporting a Southern accent, is the vacuum-cleaner salesman; and Dakota Johnson is the foul-mouthed hippie. In her first feature, Cynthia Erivo as Motown backup singer Darlene Sweet is the film’s breakout star. Goddard smartly turns his camera on her whenever viewers are in danger of succumbing to the tedium of a bloated second act in an already over-long (140 minutes) movie. Erivo, a Tony-winner for “The Color Purple,” belts out ’60s classics like “Hold On, I’m Coming,” “This Old Heart of Mine” and “You Can’t Hurry Love,” the latter making for the backdrop to a tense scene with Bridges’ Father Flynn and Johnson’s Emily Summerspring.

“Bad Times” is set in 1969 and centers on seven folks landing at the El Royale hotel, a kitschy inn (with $8 a night rooms) straddling the California-Nevada line. That it’s a “bi-state establishment” is a gimmick the script makes a big deal over, then Goddard just abandons it. He doesn’t make good on the early promise to make the hotel itself — which used to host the likes of Marilyn Monroe, Frank Sinatra and Martin Luther King Jr. — very much a character in the film. “This place had swing.” After awhile, though, the hotel just feels like set design.

Anyway, the movie is Tarantino-esque — and that’s not an insult. It’s a plus. But it’s still no “Pulp Fiction.” What is? Goddard unleashes holy hell on his characters. Not all of them make it to the closing credits. He plays with time, too, breaking the film up into chapters titled “Room Five,” “Room Seven” and so on, to flashback to a character’s past and to also backtrack through scenes to show the current action from a different character’s perspective. Structurally, it’s like the two-way mirrors hanging in the hotel rooms. There’s always another side to the story.

Violence and mystery ensue over the course of one dark and stormy night, as Goddard reveals the sordid details of his characters lives, taking us on a quick trip to Vietnam and to an armored car heist gone wrong. Saying anymore about the plot or characters would ruin the surprises. Like a true ensemble, the script gives each member their chance to shine with a big speech or moment. None of the characters are what they appear, but you can guess that from get-go. Eventually Chris Hemsworth, yes, Thor himself, shows up as a charismatic cult leader (think: Charles Manson), who says a lot, but since his sexy Billy Lee struts around with his shirt unbuttoned those words are unlikely to land. You simply cannot take your eyes off his chiseled abs. He’s truly a god among men. Check into “Bad Times at the El Royale” for the zigzag-y thriller, but stay for Hemsworth dancing to Deep Purple’s “Hush.” You won’t want to leave.

— Dana Barbuto may be reached at dbarbuto@patriotledger.com or follow her on Twitter @dbarbuto_Ledger.